If I could go back ten years and speak to my younger self, I wouldn’t talk about goals or strategy. I wouldn’t tell you how to climb the ladder or hit milestones faster.
I’d just sit down beside you, and say:
“You don’t need to have everything figured out. And you don’t need to be perfect, successful, or wealthy to be worthy of love.”
For so long, I chased the version of life I thought would finally make me feel whole—big job, marriage by 30, kids by 35, multiple homes, financial success. I looked at what everyone else around me was doing and thought: That must be it. That must be the formula for happiness.
But deep down, I was stressed. Unfulfilled. Lost.
I didn’t stop to ask myself, What do I really want?
I didn’t even feel safe asking that question.
Instead, I poured myself into a relationship—a relationship that, in hindsight, became a distraction from the life I wasn’t happy living. I leaned on her for love, for comfort, for a sense of purpose, because it was too painful to face the truth:
That I didn’t love my life.
That I was afraid to change.
That I didn’t know who I was without the noise.
When that relationship ended, it broke me open.
The grief wasn’t just about her—it was about the years I spent numbing my pain with connection.
The dreams I forced because I thought I had to.
The version of “me” I thought I had to maintain.
I spent years feeling depressed. Unmotivated.
Going through the motions.
Waking up with heaviness, wondering if life would ever feel light again.
But slowly, in the quiet after the chaos, something shifted. I started to see that the pain was trying to tell me something. That the depression wasn’t weakness—it was a signal.
A signal that I’d been living out of alignment.
A signal that I needed to stop running.
And start healing.
Now, I realize what truly matters.
Success isn’t about having the biggest house or the highest salary. It’s about having the freedom to do something you love. To impact others through your story. To wake up feeling present and peaceful—not every day, but most days.
To be surrounded by people who see you. To love and be loved, not for who you’re trying to be, but who you are.
Money will come—especially when you align yourself with what lights you up and find ways to serve others through it.
But don’t chase it at the expense of your soul.
So to anyone reading this who feels stuck, tired, heartbroken, or lost in a life that doesn’t feel like theirs—
You’re not alone.
And you’re not broken.
You’re just at the beginning of a more honest chapter.
Let it begin.
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